


Stomach Bug

by Not_Jazz



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Family, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-01
Updated: 2016-03-06
Packaged: 2018-05-24 01:42:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,319
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6136954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Not_Jazz/pseuds/Not_Jazz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The little Canadian boy tugged on his ‘mother’s’ pants repeatedly. He was very worried, something about his hero-complex brother wasn’t right.</p><p>or: </p><p>   A short tale of how one family deals with the flu.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

  The little Canadian boy tugged on his ‘mother’s’ pants repeatedly. He was very worried, something about his hero-complex brother wasn’t right.

            “What is it-”

            “Matthew.”

            “I knew that,” the British man recovered, “now, what is it, Matthew?”

            “Al’s not looking too good,” he whispered into his white bear. He was a shy boy.

            “How so?”

            “He won’t get offa the couch.”

            “Off of the,” he corrected, “Show me.”

            Matt nodded and dashed into the living room. There was Alfred, the little American boy curled up under a blanket. His eyes were tightly shut, like he was frightened. Arthur ran over to him.

            “Alfred? What’s wrong?”

            “I don’t feel good,” he whined, not opening his eyes.

            Arthur leaned down to feel his forehead. It just felt a tad bit warm. “What hurts?”

            Alfred was going to say something, but it was blocked by all his breakfast coming right back up. When he was done, Arthur’s pants were covered.

            “Ah!” and of course the thick-eyebrow man started screaming vulgarities.

            Alfred then started crying.

            Matt just watched, frightened.

            “Mon dieu,” Francis walked over, with a playful smile he always wore, “What is going on ‘ere?”

            “Alfred’s sick,” Matt explained as Arthur started to finally calm down.

            “I can see that,” Francis chuckled. “Angleterre, why don’t you get cleaned up. Alfred, we need to change your clothes and get you in bed.”

            “I don’t wanna,” Al whined, his cheeks now red with full blown fever.

            “I’m sorry, but you’re sick and need rest,” the French man said soothingly, picking up the weak little boy. He turned to Matthew before going up the stairs, “Stay downstairs, mon cher, I do not want you sick too.”

            “Oui, Papa,” and with that he ran off.

            Arthur, still fuming about getting his knickers all dirty, cleaned off and met with ‘the bloody frog’ in the hallway.

            “Well?” he was a very impatient man to say the least.

            “He has a slight fever,” Francis replied calmly, “He probably has a stomach bug.”

            Arthur sighed and nodded, “I’ll check on him.”

            “You should,” he smirked, “you did make him cry.”

            Arthur felt really guilty, turning a slight pink, “Ah, yes, right.”        

            Francis chuckled and kissed his lover’s forehead, “I’ll see you downstairs at some point.”

            Arthur nodded and walked into Alfred’s room. The little boy was groaning in pain and tossing in his bed. He stopped a bit when seeing Arthur, “I’m sorry Iggy.”

            For now, Arthur ignored his nickname, “It’s alright Alfred. It’s a normal thing to happen when sick.”      

            “But heroes don’t get sick!” Al whined.

            “Well this one does,” Arthur chuckled.

            Arthur stayed and started smoothing Alfred’s hair in a soothing manner. He started humming a small song, causing Al to drift off into sleepy bliss.

            “Iggy,” Alfred chirped up.

            “Yes Alfred?”

            “Please don’t leave,” his eyes were big and glazed over with fever and sleep. He looked so helpless; it made Arthur’s heart melt.

            “I won’t,” he smiled.

            “Promise?”

            “I promise.”

            Alfred smiled a small, sleepy, smile, and then started to drift off to sleep.

                       

            A few days later, Alfred was playing and running around the house with his brother, Matthew, like nothing happened. However, Arthur was not so lucky.

            “I’m going to die,” Arthur whined.

            “No you’re not,” Francis chuckled lightly, putting a wet clothe on his head.

            “I wish I was dead,” he groaned. Arthur then started turning color, “Oh sh-bucket!”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Viruses spread easily, as Arthur unfortunately learns.

“I’m hungry!” Alfred whined.

            He woke up and the house was quiet. He walked into the kitchen, and the only thing there was his brother Matthew and his bear Kuma...Kuma…Kuma-something. He pouted and shouted at Matthew.

            “A-Al! Sh!” Mattie put a finger to his lips, “Daddy and Papa are sleeping.”

            “They should be up now!” Al whined and started running up to their room. “Iggy!” he burst the door open, “Iggy! I’m hungry!”

            “Go away,” he heard a groan.

            Francis was pale, he noticed, and Iggy had a red face. It was almost as red as when he asked where babies had come from (the cabbage bush and stork).

                “Je suis désolé,” Francis coughed, “we’re not feeling very well. Can you make something yourself.”

            “Oui, Papa,” Matthew nodded.

            “Why aren’t ya feeling well?” Alfred tilted his head. Ideas starting to come to him, and then he started to cry. “Oh no! You’re dying!”

            “We’re not bloody dying,” Arthur hissed, “although it feels like it…” he muttered that last part and got punch in the side, slightly, by Francis.

            “Non, we are not dying, mon cher,” Francis explained.

            Alfred sniffled, along with Matthew who had a habit of copying Al when he started crying. “O-okay, if you’re sure you’re not dying.”

            “We’re sure,” Arthur replied.

            “M’kay!” Alfred cheered up, “Come on Mattie! Let’s make food!”

            The door closed loudly, causing Arthur to wince.

            “They’re going to be the death of me, I swear,” Arthur muttered.

            “Aw, they’re just children,” Francis hugged his partner in bed, “and now we have all this time to ourselves.”

            “No way in bloody hell,” Arthur glared at the man sitting next to him, “Don’t you dare.”

            “Aw, but Arthur!” he whined.

            “No means no!”

           

            “Wow Mattie! When you learn to make food?” Al asked, stuffing a pancake in his mouth.

            “I watched Papa,” he replied quietly.

            “Awesome, can you make a burger?”

            “No, Al.”

            “Aw,” Alfred whined, shrinking back in his chair.

            “What should we do now, eh?”

            “I don’t know,” he sighed, acting smart by putting his head in his hands and tilting his head.

            They sat in silence, which felt like forever, until Al snapped his fingers.

            “Let’s make food for Iggy and Papa!” Al exclaimed, “They must be hungry!”

            “You weren’t when you were sick,” Matt contradicted.

            “Yeah, but their older, so it’s different,” Al explained…and somehow this made sense to the young Canada.

            “Oh...ok!”     
            So, for an hour, they destroyed the kitchen making pancakes and toast. Al almost set the house on fire, but Kumajiko was smart enough to stop the flames with water. And, somehow, they made edible food for their guardians.

            “They’re going to be so happy!” Al exclaimed, getting juice for them, “let’s go!”

            “Okay,” Matt whispered, following him with the tray of food.

            Kumajir followed…after turning off the stove.

 

             “N-no,” Arthur whined, “my head is killing me.” he struggled to get the French man off him.

            Francis kissed his cheek, “you know you want me.”

            “Iggy! Papa!” Al kicked the door open, “we made you food!”

            The shock caused Francis to sit straight up and Arthur to turn bright red.

            Al and Matt stared for a second, holding a tray of pancakes, toast, and orange juice.

            Al was the one who finally broke the silence.

            “I thought you were sick and couldn’t play with us!” Al whined.

            “We are!” Arthur exclaimed, pushing Francis off of him, “F-Francis was just…just…”

            “Feeling his temperature,” Francis regained his composure easily. He touched Arthur’s forehead, “yep, still warm.”

            “Oh…okay! We made you food!” Al smiled.

            “In case you get hungry,” Matt added.

            “Aw, you’re so sweet!” Francis chirped, “Come and set it over here. Isn’t that sweet, Arthur?”

            “Is the stove off?”

            “Yes,” Al rolled his eyes.

            “How bad is the kitchen?”

            “Just a few spots, we’ll clean it later,” Matthew replied, covering Al’s mouth so he couldn’t protest.

            Arthur nodded, smiling ever-so slightly, “yes, that’s very sweet of you.”

            “Why don’t you two go play now?” Francis asked, suppressing a cough.

            “Okay!” the boys chimed in at the same time and ran off to go play outside…in the mud…

            Arthur laid back down, “that was too close.”

            “Well, their outside now,” Francis purred.

            Arthur grabbed a piece of toast and shoved it in his mouth. Francis started gagging and then threw up in a nearby trash can.

            “Serves you right, pervert,” Arthur smirked, triumphant.

            Now if he could only get rid of this bloody virus!  

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you all enjoyed!

**Author's Note:**

> So technically this is a few years old for me. I've been out of the fandom for a while. But, i still loved this story. I hope you enjoyed (and i may have a sequel if i see enough interest ;) )


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